[ He himself leaning back a little as Komaeda draws him nearer. His hair is still damp, and Hiyori can feel his shirt growing damp in spots.He doesn't mind, though. It's a pleasant sensation, being this close, and how nice it would be to stay this way. How nice it would be to be even closer to him, to feel his skin and run his hands through his hair, to be able to love every inch of him properly. But he also thinks of how much more comfortable his his bed would be, how much nicer the sofa that he slept on more than his actual bed, would be if he had this person with him.
He closes his eyes briefly as he imagines all of those things. Doctors fell in love with their patients. He'd seen it himself, and he knows of the one mentioned now. Perhaps he is, though he would never do anything as crude as defiling a corpse or fancying himself seeing spirits; he wouldn't mind creating an AI in Komaeda's image, a perfect replication of him, one that could stay with him even if the original was lost. But it's not insanity, and it's not what he wishes for now.
He opens his eyes now to allow himself to return to the present, a small shiver running down his spine as he takes in the combination of Komaeda's warm breath against his back and his index finger tracing along his skin that promises more. He can never get enough of him - not of his touch, not of that soft and beautiful voice of his, not of the sight of his empty eyes and messy hair and ghostly white skin. ]
I know, Komaeda-kun. It's important for a person to take care of both their mind and body.
[ Ultimate or otherwise. He searches for the right words, a way to offer some reassurance, but his mind feels like it's melting and his legs are starting to feel wobbly now that he's stopped moving. ]
You don't need to worry about me, Komaeda-kun... I'll be aright.
that's right, he'll be able to reach the top shelf and everything
He closes his eyes briefly as he imagines all of those things. Doctors fell in love with their patients. He'd seen it himself, and he knows of the one mentioned now. Perhaps he is, though he would never do anything as crude as defiling a corpse or fancying himself seeing spirits; he wouldn't mind creating an AI in Komaeda's image, a perfect replication of him, one that could stay with him even if the original was lost. But it's not insanity, and it's not what he wishes for now.
He opens his eyes now to allow himself to return to the present, a small shiver running down his spine as he takes in the combination of Komaeda's warm breath against his back and his index finger tracing along his skin that promises more. He can never get enough of him - not of his touch, not of that soft and beautiful voice of his, not of the sight of his empty eyes and messy hair and ghostly white skin. ]
I know, Komaeda-kun. It's important for a person to take care of both their mind and body.
[ Ultimate or otherwise. He searches for the right words, a way to offer some reassurance, but his mind feels like it's melting and his legs are starting to feel wobbly now that he's stopped moving. ]
You don't need to worry about me, Komaeda-kun... I'll be aright.